


Amnesia for two

by younoknowme93



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amnesia, Bottom Snape, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Post War, Top Harry, V! Snape, but not Harry's fault, don't be mad at poor Harry, just not in the first chapter, potential dub con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2018-10-15 21:21:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10557898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/younoknowme93/pseuds/younoknowme93
Summary: I wake again.  This time when I open my eyes, I manage to fight past the pain.  It’s too bright and the strain causes my eyes to water.  All of the images are blurry, but I am in what looks like my room- or what has been charmed to look like my room- but there are obvious changes.  There are two bedside tables where there was only one.  And the door is on the wrong side.  There is also a window.  There are no windows in the dungeons.  I’m not sure if I am in danger or not.  I’m inclined to believe that I am.  Being a spy has taught me, to always believe the worse option that way one is prepared for that outcome.  The room is empty-aside from me, but I know last I woke that there was a hand.





	1. Waking up

**Author's Note:**

> I was originally planning to wait until I finished this one, but I will go ahead and post the first chapter if only to get feedback. I've not forgotten my other stories, but this little thought bunny has been on my computer for quite some time and I thought my readers would enjoy the first chapter. 
> 
> Now I have a small WARNING that some readers may want to have told to them. There is technically dub con in this first chapter, but as it is a gray area I would like to inform some of the readers that may be uncomfortable... Severus is unable to consent, but the person that is pleasuring Severus is not necessarily at fault. And that will be cleared up at the end of this chapter and/or beginning of the second chapter. Although my readers are smart, so I'm sure you can figure out just from the tags. Suffice to say someone isn't aware that someone else has amnesia.
> 
> Onward my ducklings

It’s too dark to see, not that it would matter.  I can’t keep my eyes open for more than an instant.  Years of being a spy have trained me to always be aware of my surroundings.  Even with my eyes closed, I can tell that I am laying on a bed in what feels to be a familiar environment.  Thick covers are carefully laid on top of me.  I can feel their heavy weight, but it’s comforting.  It’s difficult for me to move, so I cannot easily check myself for the extent of my injuries, but I know I have many.  My head is in a fog.  I can’t remember how I became injured, or how I came to be lying in potential safety.  Am I safe?  I do not sense anyone around me.  I cannot hear anyone.  Seeing is out of the question.  No one is currently touching me.  Did I manage to drag myself to this location?  That seems farfetched, but adrenalin has been known to do amazing things.  I’m tired.  I do not know for how long I was sleeping, but my injuries have taken a toll on me.  My eyes feel heavy even being closed, and soon I know I will be unable to resist the pull into unconsciousness. 

Just before I fall into what will surely be nightmares, I feel the covers pull back, and a hand rest on my forehead.  _I’m not alone._   My instincts tell me to fight sleep, but when that same hand runs a damp rag over my perspiring temple, I find myself falling.  This hand may hurt me, but I do not have the strength to care about such things.

I wake again.  This time when I open my eyes, I manage to fight past the pain.  It’s too bright and the strain causes my eyes to water.  All of the images are blurry, but I am in what looks like my room- or what has been charmed to look like my room- but there are obvious changes.  There are two bedside tables where there was only one.  And the door is on the wrong side.  There is also a window.  There are no windows in the dungeons.  I’m not sure if I am in danger or not.  I’m inclined to believe that I am.  Being a spy has taught me, to always believe the worse option that way one is prepared for that outcome.  The room is empty-aside from me, but I know last I woke that there was a hand. 

I force my own hands into the soft mattress.  The pain is on par with torture, but I manage to sit up in the bed.  The comforter falls back, and immediately I see the blurred bandages.  I am naked- from the waist up at least, I have very little feeling and I’m hesitant to pull back the rest of the blankets and see if I am also naked from the waist down.  That is something I’d rather not know right now. 

The white bandages look fairly new, though now certain spots are stained bright red.  I undoubtedly opened injuries that had not yet fully healed.  The bandages at my left side are red, and at my left shoulder.  Whatever happened, the left of me took the brunt of the attack.  Those appear to be the most noticeable injuries.  I am able to move my fingers.  I feel immense pain in the action, but I am able to.  I try to wiggle- I hate that word- my toes, but I am unable to.  That is unnerving, but there is nothing I can do about that at present. 

My eyes blink away the water that is gathering in them.  My body is telling me that I am at my limit, but if I am in danger, then that does not matter.  I cannot stay here where I may not be safe.  This hand may be a threat to me.  I do not know who it is attached to, and I must be prepared for a threat.  I must be prepared for that hand to injure me further. 

I feel it again.  I can’t see.  The lights were dimmed and my eyes are struggling to refocus.  They are unable.  I feel it again.  A hand on my forehead.  Another hand is placed on my back, and I’m being eased back into the bed.  I open my mouth to protest, but my vocal cords will not make sounds.

_“Shh.  Rest.  You are safe.”_   I know the voice, but I can’t place where I know it from.  I can’t remember who that voice belongs to.  I feel the bandages being removed.  A damp rag is cleaning the opens wounds.  I need to hear that voice again.  I need to remember where I heard it from.  I need to remember who it belongs to.  Then I can rest.  If I know that the voice doesn’t intent to harm me, I can allow myself to rest for a time.  I will not trust the words.  Words can lie, but If I can just remember.  _“Sleep Severus.”_   I still can’t remember.  The fog in my mind will not clear, but I cannot refuse that voice.  I fall into unconsciousness.

This time when I wake, I open my eyes to darkness, but I know the room is lit.  Something is over my eyes blinding me.  Panic sets it.  I can’t move.  I can’t see.  Helpless.  Vulnerable.  _“The room is too bright for your eyes.  When I finish I will dim the lights and remove the rag over your eyes, for now just bear with it.  I need to see what I’m doing.”_ The voice belongs to a male.  I’m a step closer.  I open my mouth, but again no sounds come out.  _“Don’t try.  Your vocal cords were damaged in the accident.  I had to put a charm on you- was difficult because of your situation- that made it so you couldn’t talk.  So don’t try to talk.  You wouldn’t be able to regardless, but trying might cause further damage.  In time, we will see what we can do to get your voice back, but for now try to be patient Severus.  You’ve been unconscious for a long time, and when you do wake up, you aren’t able to stay awake for long.  You will heal faster if you just stay calm.”_

The voice- the male voice is distinctly familiar.  I know it.  I can’t remember.  I just wish for him to tell me his name, then I can prepare for what will happen.  I likely wouldn’t believe the voice regardless.  The voice and the hands are unwrapping the bandages.  All of the covers are removed entirely off of the bed.  The hands are at my hips and I can feel fabric being removed from my body.  Fight or flight.  I can’t run.  Fight.  But I don’t move.  The hand presses into my hip and keeps me firmly on the bed. 

I’m unable to defend myself or flee the situation.  I’m bare in front of the male voice and his hands.  I’m vulnerable and the bile sits firmly in my throat.  A rag different from the one covering my eyes is ran over my arms.  My arm pits.  My shoulder blades.  My neck.  The rag leaves me for a moment, but when it returns it is wet once again.  The hands are bathing me.  They are careful of my injuries, but still clean the area thoroughly.  My chest.  Even my hands. 

When those hands make the effort to wash my own, I feel like I see him for the first time.  His hands are smaller than mine.  I can feel callouses in places that match my own.  He’s a wizard.  I’m sure of it now.  I know he said that he put a charm on me, but now I know for a fact that he’s a wizard.  Those familiar callouses.  I don’t feel the pulse of magic around me.  Not from him, and not from me.

Though it’s concerning, the thought is pressed to the back of my mind.  The loss of one’s magic is traumatic, but with my life in the hands of some faceless wizard, I have bigger dangers.  The damp cloth knows no prudence.  My intimate areas are washed as thoroughly as the rest of me.  How dare this person presume that they have the right to touch me in ways that I myself am hesitant to touch.  The nonchalance is infuriating.  I muster my strength to close my legs.  I only know that I am successful because I hear that voice.

_“Severus, please don’t make this difficult.  I know that you wouldn’t want to lay in your own sweat.  And blood.  Just let me wipe you down.”_ The rag is resting on my stomach while the hands gently- but firmly- separate my legs.  _“I’ve been taking care of you for a long time now.  So please do not be embarrassed, after all, I have seen you numerous times.  I know how private you are, and I knew you wouldn’t be happy having anyone other than me bathe you.  Although, I know that I wouldn’t let anyone else touch you so intimately either.  Just listen to my voice and relax.”_ The hand once again resumes washing those intimate areas.  It’s so uncomfortable. 

I’m disgusted with my traitorous body wants to respond.  Of course it would.  It’s natural.  I’m being touched by a hand that is not my own.  Regardless of the situation.  I seldom have allowed myself to ‘care for basic needs’.  My hand never felt quite right doing such an intimate act.  I’m just focusing completely on not becoming hard.  I’m so thankful when that hand pulls away- my pride still minorly intact. 

The rag is removed from _that_ area.  He’s done.  Underwear is slid over my legs and onto my hips; then a blanket is laid on top of me stopping just at my waist.  Deft fingers roll bandages from my stomach all the way to my shoulders- focusing more heavily on my left.  Then bandages are wrapped around my neck.  It feels like I’m suffocating- struggling to breath.  I fall into unconsciousness.

The next time I wake up the room is dark.  I’m lying on my right side.  It’s painful.  When I try moving onto my back that increasingly familiar hand keeps me on my side.

_“Severus, please stay in the position that I moved you too.  I know it’s uncomfortable for you, but you are getting bed sores from staying on your back.  I’ll keep you off of your left side, but your shoulders and bottom are getting sores.  I can’t let you keep staying on your back.”_   That hand is pressing against my shoulders and it hurts enough where I wish I could scream.  _“I’ve put some cream on it.  The muggle kind.  I’ve had to be very careful with what medicines to use on you.  You don’t respond well to most magical remedies otherwise you likely would have already been healed.”_

My eyes aren’t covered.  The room is to bright.  My eyes are watering.  I can’t see anything for the water blinding me.  Those hands remind me that I’m not alone.  Those hands. The ones that could hurt me, but have not yet.  The voice sounds much clearer.  My head feels less foggy.  Could I actually be safe?  I ignore the pain in favor of attempting to sit up.

“ _Severus, you shouldn’t be moving like that.  Just lay back_.”  A hand is on my bare chest.  I force myself to stay conscious.  “ _Severus?  Are you actually lucid right now?_ ”  The voice sounds hopeful.  Desperate even.  I try to respond, but I can’t.  The fingers press against my throat and it hurts, but I recognize the action for what it is.  He’s inspecting me.  _“You have made a lot of commotion while asleep.  Fighting me.  Can you really hear me right now or is your body in self-defense mode.”_   The hand cups my cheek affectionately _.  “I don’t want to get my hopes up.”_   A hand presses into mine.  I’m fighting my eyes trying to make them focus on the face that I’m looking at.  Everything is blurry.  _“Please.  Severus.  If you are lucid right now.  If you are actually conscious try to squeeze my hand.  Please.  Please.”_   The voice sounds tired. 

I’m torn.  If this is a potential threat, it might be safest to let him know as little as possible.  The voice though sounds genuine.  I have never had someone genuinely care for me.  Taking care of me.  Bathing me.  It takes a great effort, but I do manage to flex my hand.  It’s enough.  The voice is laughing.  Much like a child. 

_“Thank Merlin.  I was afraid that you would never wake up.  You’ve been unconscious for so long.”_   A thumb is rubbing my cheek in an infuriatingly familiar manor.  _“I don’t know how long your strength will allow you to stay conscious, but I love you.  I’ll keep taking care of you until you’re better.  Just try to be patient.  You were heavily injured.  I’ve been taking care of you.  I knew you would prefer that to some nurse you didn’t know.”_   The voice is grating against my nerves.  I know it.  Why can’t I place it.  Why are my eyes burning so much.  _“I’m just glad to know that you are healing.  Please.  Try to rest more.  I will not be far.”_   The hands and the voice settle me into the plush bed.  Lips kiss my temple.

I’ve never been kissed like this.  My parents hated me.  I’ve never had any romantic partners.  And yet, this faceless person has kissed me gently and expressed love.

I don’t know if I believe this man that could harm me, or if I doubt him.  Either way.  I fall asleep to soothing words.

The next time I wake up, the voice, the same one is reading aloud.  From the style, I can tell he’s reading from the daily prophet.  He’s even commenting.

_“Can you believe these idiots Severus.  Trying to use worm-wart instead of jellified tadpoles.  It’s no wonder they exploded the place.  Imbecilic morons.  Or at least, I’m sure that’s what you’d say…  Already.  That’s all of the daily prophet.  Now your favorite potion’s journal.”_

I listen to the lively tone.  Whoever this person is, they are much to relaxed with me.  Occasionally, the person will enthusiastically touch my hand with exclamations of excitement.  I’m too tired to make contact with this person.  I’ve decided that, I will trust this person.  He does not seem to wish any harm on me.  I will focus on gathering my strength, so that I can become well enough to question this person about my health.

The next time I wake up, my eyes are covered again.  I’m being undressed.  Again, I make it a point to show no clues of consciousness.  My pride can’t deal with being bathed willingly.  I’m not sure if I’m more conscious of him, or if he’s simply more thorough.  Again, he pays special care to my injuries.  Cleaning them, but remaining gentle.  My chest.  I can feel the damp cloth coasting over my nipples.  He cleans my hands again.  I can feel how sure they are.  I refuse to let my fingers so much as twitch to alert him.  My arms, neck, face.  While he washes me, I can hear him humming softly. 

The cloth washes lower and I feel defenseless.  My legs are bent as he cleans under my knees.  My feet.  Until there’s only one place left.  It I hate to admit it even to myself, but I’m terrified.  This is the same person that claimed that they loved me.  I do not understand what love they meant, but remembering the words only make me more anxious for what’s to come.

_“Almost done Severus.  I know how much you like to be clean.”_   How?  Who is this person.  I’ve heard the rumors about myself.  Bad hygiene and such.  I take two showers a day.  One when I wake up and one before I go to sleep.  My hair has always looked shiny, so maybe that’s why I was always so meticulous with bathing.  Most people just assume that it’s shiny due to lack of bathing… not like anyone asks how often I bathe.  How does he know.  Has he been stalking me.  Is that why I’m here.  Is that why magic hasn’t been used to heal my various injuries.

And still.  The hand is touching me in such unfamiliar ways.  And again, my body wants to respond to the foreign touch.  Only this time, I can’t fight down the rush of arousal, and I can’t stop my body from responding.

I could die from shame.

_“Severus you’re aroused, I guess it has been a long time since I’ve pleasured you.”_   PLEASURED ME?! He’s… Merlin.  What has he done to me.  _“It’s not good to be pent up.  Just let me finish, and then I’ll finish you.”_  The cloth leaves my erection, and moves to clean my bottom.  I jerk from him when I feel a cloth covered finger press against my arsehole.  _“Severus?  Are you awake?”_

What should I do.  If I’m awake, surely he will not… but if I’m awake then he will undoubtable laugh at my body’s response.  I can’t let him do whatever he has planned.  I’ve never had someone… My hand twitches when his hand lays atop it. 

_“Good.  I won’t feel bad then.  Severus, I’m just going to take care of your erection.  Like I have all those other times.”_   He chuckles lightly.  _“I’ll make you feel good.”_   I try to force out words.  To stop him, but I can’t make any sounds.  _“Shh.  I don’t want you to hurt your throat more.  Just relax.”_   He laughs a bit more.  _“You’ll feel a lot better once I take care of your needs.”_   A hand firmly wraps around my length. 

I’ve never…. He wouldn’t actually… he said ‘all those other times’…. He already has…. Why would he…. What all has he….

_“That’s is Severus.  I remember all the places you love being caressed.”_   I feel something wet against my slit.  It doesn’t linger.  The wet appendage is now focusing on the base of my penis and following the long vein back to the tip.  I can’t breathe.  _“You are really feeling it aren’t you Severus?”_   His mouth circles the tip and sucks lightly.  A hand squeezes me tightly. 

I’ve always been ashamed of my size, I think that’s why I made it a point to avoid all sexual activities.  I’ve had chances, but I just didn’t want he hear the laughter.  But now completely bare in front of this person, I don’t have time to think about that.  He’s sucking me fully into his mouth, and as embarrassed as I am, it feels _good_.  I feel like I need more.  I just don’t know what that is.  I don’t know how this person knows how to make me feel like this.  I’m scared.  And frustratingly horny. 

_“I know you could never cum from just this Severus.  I apologize if I’m a bit too enthusiastic, I’ve been holding back since you were injured.  I’ll give you what you need Severus.”_   A finger presses gingerly against my hole and I jerk away from it _.  “You’re right.  It’s been to long.  I think even a finger would be uncomfortable.  That’s fine, I prefer the alternative anyways.”_   Hands press under my thighs and lift me into a curled position.  I can’t get away.  Even when a wet muscle lathers my hole, I still can’t move.  Even as it flicks inside, and he pumps my erection.  Even as he presses his tongue the first time inside. 

I didn’t know something like this could exist.  I can’t move.  To wrapped in fear and pleasure. 

_“Once you are fully healed, I’m going fuck you Severus.”_  The voice sounds husky and raw.  _“I bet you’ll be nice and tight since it’s been so long since I’ve had you.  Do you miss the feel of my cock inside you”_   Again.  He’s talking as if he’s been intimate with me.  He sounds so sure that he has.  But I’ve never with anyone.  _“So enjoy your pleasure now Severus.  I’ll take mine later.”_   He’s sucking my anus while lathering the outside affectionately.  It’s all too much.  I didn’t ask for this.  This is to much.  It’s to personal.  It’s to humiliating.  _“Severus, I love you so much.  I’m so happy that you have been lucid more.  I was so afraid.”_   He’s kissing my inner thigh at the juncture of my groin..  _“I was so afraid that you would never wake up, and I’d never be able to hear your voice or tell you how deeply I love you.”_   He sucks that same spot and I hear my own voice release a sound I wasn’t aware I was capable of making.

_“So beautiful.  I know all of the spots that you love Severus.  I’ve really missed that lovely voice of yours.”_   He’s biting that spot that’s making me squirm.  Why is it affecting me like this?  I don’t understand.  _“Another time Severus, I’ll tease you the way you like for me too.  Today though let’s not play games.  I don’t want to stress out your body.”_   I’m panting humiliatingly when his mouth returns to my erection.  _“You taste so good Severus.”_   Why is this person doing this.  Why is he saying these things.  No one wants me and this person is…

My eyes are still covered since he was bathing me.  I try to not dwell on the fact that I can’t see the man sucking me.  I can’t see the man twirling his tongue against the head of my erection till I want to cry out.  I don’t see the man pushing in and out his middle finger until I see stars.  I don’t see the man moaning contently. 

_“Don’t worry Sevvy, I didn’t forget.”_   His mouth is gone and I mourn the loss of the only pleasure I’ve ever known.  But the mouth isn’t gone for long.  It’s only changed it’s target.  Softly this person is taking my testicles into his mouth and sucking.  _“I know this is your favorite.  I hadn’t forgotten.”_   His hands are cupping my balls and massaging them while his tongue explores every crevice.  The middle finger speeds.  _“Your ass has become so tight.  I’m going to enjoy loosening you up again.”_   _Again._ He keeps implying that we’ve… but I’ve never with anyone.  I don’t.  Why does my head hurt so much.  _“Go on Severus.  Cum in my mouth and I’ll swallow it.  I wouldn’t want to get you dirty after I’ve just cleaned you.”_  

The soft voice doesn’t need to encourage me to cum, I already am.  And sure enough, when I do, it’s into a warm cavern.  I’m panting too tired to question what I’ve just done with someone I don’t know.  But he’s cleaning me gently. 

_“I’m sure that will help you sleep Severus.  My next class is about to start, so I will let you sleep.”_   He kisses the top of my head.  _“I love you Severus.”_   I hear the flick of a switch and the door closing.  He said class.  Is this a student?  It’s preposterous to think that a student has wounded me and taken me captive.  I fall asleep just as I realized that the hands covered me back up before they left. 

The next time I wake, I’m alone.  I don’t hear anything, but I can tell by the faint light from the window that it’s nearing evening.  I have more strength than I have in a long time.  Fight or flight.  Can I really trust a faceless voice that has touched me intimately without my permission?  I do not even know why I’m here, or where here is.  But now would be the time to escape.  I shuffle out of bed, and fall to the floor immediately.  Was my body always this heavy. 

I’m just thankful that I am wearing pants.  Even if they are just pajama bottoms, I do not think I would have the strength to dress myself.  My body is mummified in bandages.  I manage to crawl to one of the walls and use it to support my weight as I follow the interior of this room that is not mine.  I try to accio my wand, but I still cannot feel my magic.  I hobble to the exit.  The door opens. 

Did my captor not lock it?  Did he think me to weak to escape?

The door leads to a classroom.  Much like one of the many ones at Hogwarts.  I can tell from the windows that I must be close to Gryffindor tower.  As I make my slow escape I try to recall any memories from before I was captured and placed in that bed.

The war. 

That must be where my injuries came from.  Is my capture a form of torture.  Perhaps as a form of Stockholm syndrome.  They intend to hold me prisoner until I am reliant on them and then they will interrogate me.  That’s the only thing that makes sense.  Having someone profess love for me.  Laughable.

I make it to the end of the classroom and feel weaker with each step.  I can feel magic surrounding me again.  I don’t fully know what the monster’s intention is, but separating me from my magic in order to make me feel more vulnerable will not work. 

I open the classroom door.  I’m still unsure if this is truly Hogwarts or just an illusion.  Regardless.  When I open the classroom door, I see more of the castle.  I really am close to Gryffindor tower.  I only need to go down several flights of stairs and then, I will go out of the main exit. 

The staircase in front of me taunts me.  There is not a wall for me to grasp so instead I have to venture alone.  I can’t let my weakness stop me from leaving this castle.  If I’m correct and my injuries are from the war, then I no doubt am considered a war criminal.  If I have any hope of survival, then I will have to escape this place and get far away. 

My magic still feels like it is flickering, and my body feels weak all at once.  I feel like my bones are bleeding, but I force myself to take that first step away from the wall.  The pain is intense.  I can feel blood trailing down my back, no doubt from my shoulder.  My legs shake as if I were learning to walk for the first time, but after several excruciating minutes, I make it the six feet to the staircase. 

Now just the steps.  The hundreds of steps.  At least now I have the staircase.  I can feel my hair sticking to the back of my neck from the sheer effort.  I’m clutching the railing.  I’m crying by the time I make it to the bottom of the first staircase.  I have several more to go.  Another step.  Another step.  My legs are burning.  When I make it halfway down, I feel the ground under me shaking.  The damn staircase is moving.  This direction would take me to the great hall.  Still possible to make it to the exit, but with an additional staircase. 

It’s moving and I clutch the railing as it knocks me off balance.  My chest hurts.  Everything hurts.  I have to keep moving, but I stay curled defensively against the rail.  I can’t move.  I’m so tired.  Even as I hear footsteps approach, my legs will not move. 

I hear the footsteps stop beside me.  I turn and observe the girl.  She’s in her school robes, with a green tie.  She’s a Slytherin, but I don’t recognize her.  I always make it a point to know my Slytherin students.  I’m their head of house, but I’ve never seen this girl before.  She looks at me concerned.

 “Professor.  It’ll be alright.  Please stay right there.  I will go and get Professor Snape, and then he will help you back to your room.  Just please don’t move.  You’ll hurt yourself more.”  Professor Snape?  But I’m…. my head hurts.  She’s running off, and I can’t speak to question her.  Is she an illusion.  Have I gone insane.  If the war just happened, then why isn’t the castle damaged in any way.  Why do I not know who that student is, and why is she going to get me?  I don’t.. what is going on.

I see someone approaching with the girl from before.  He looks familiar.  He’s gently smiling down at me once he is close. 

“Thank you Miss Scarlett.  I will be taking him back to our room, can I ask you to go and request that Madam Pomfrey come to assist me?  Make sure to remind her to cleanse herself first.”

“Yes, of course.  I just want my head of house to be better.”  The hands that have touched me, wrap under me and lift me against him.  He’s carrying my heavy body so easily.  The girl leaves and the man effortlessly starts back to that room.  These are the hands that have cared for me.  These are the hands that have touched me intimately.  I try to not shy away from the hands for fear of showing my obvious discomfort.

For the first time my eyes can focus enough to really look at the man in front of me.  He’s not as tall as I am, but his body is well built.  His skin is a healthy shade, and his shaggy brown hair sticks up everywhere.  He wears thick glasses, but from this close, I can easily see those green eyes.  Is this?  But he looks so much older than I remember. 

“Potter?”  My voice does not sound like mine, and the strain feels like razor blades leaving my throat. 

“Potter?”  He snickers.  “I haven’t been called that in a long time.  It’s lovely hearing your voice, but you really shouldn’t strain it.  I don’t know why in Merlin’s beard you would leave our room.  Look at you, you’ve reopened injuries.  I know you hate being confined to a bed, but you’ll never get better at this rate.  And we’ve talked about this.  You shouldn’t leave our room until your body can handle all of the foreign magic.  A man as private as you are, what could have possibly possessed you to leave the room half naked.”  He’s smiling gently at me. 

My head is pounding, and I feel queasy.  I do not want to throw up all over myself and him.  I can’t let him know the extent of my injuries.  He might be an enemy.  He’s older than I remember.  And he’s talking too familiarly.  This can’t be Potter.

It takes this Potter impersonator little time to return me to the bed.  Already he is attempting to undress me.  My fingers pull the covers up to my chin.  When he tilts his head in confusion, my own head pounds.

“Severus, I’m just inspecting your body for injuries.  And you don’t have to be embarrassed, Poppy is a professional.  I’m going to have to change your bandages too.”  He mutters to himself.  “Please.  Don’t try to leave this room again.  I really don’t want to lock you in, but you’re still to injured.”  My stomach is turning.  He’s holding a bin up to my mouth.  “And since the accident, you’ve not responded well to magic.  I know that I’ve told you that you look splendid in green, but I didn’t mean your complexion.  Every time you are exposed to magic, you become sick to your stomach.  If you have to barf do it in here.  Poppy will not be happy to see that you’ve worsened your condition.”  He sets the bin beside me and again reaches for the covers.

I hold it tighter.  I know that he’s strong enough to take it from my grasp, but when he sees my reluctance, he stops.  He observes me for a long time.  His right hand gently cups my left cheek, then his left-hand rests on my chin.  His thumb is rubbing my bottom lip entirely to comfortably.

“Severus, you have been acting so strange since the accident.”  I’ve been acting strange?  Potter is the one who… the one who… sucked me.  If this is really him, then he’s acting strange not me.  He looks older as well.

“How old are you?”  My voice sounds rough.

“Severus, you shouldn’t be talking.  And what’s with this question anyways.  You know how old I am.  Just six months ago you gave me that splendid birthday present.”  His voice sounds sultry, and he chuckles deeply.  It’s making me uncomfortable.  “I still can’t believe you could be so kinky.”  _Kinky?_ “Do you mean how long have you been asleep?  Well.  About three weeks I’d say.  You’ve been drifting in and out of consciousness since the accident.”  Kinky?  I’ve never given him any birthday present.  Much less something that could be considered kinky.

“How is war an accident?”  Again, Harry looks confused.

“The war?  Severus.  Is that…”  He thankfully removes his hands.  “Is the last thing you remember, the war?”  The question is fairly innocent so even if this is a trap, I will answer.  So as to not further harm my voice, I nod.  “Fuck.”  To hear the golden boy himself curse is shocking.  “Severus.  That was five years ago.  The war is really the last thing you remember.  You don’t remember after?  You don’t remember me?”  Remember him.  I don’t know what there is to remember.  He brings his left hand to cover his mouth.  Clutching gently around his ring finger is a small silver band. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is sadly not my top priority... so.... super infrequent updates. But as I finish the chapters, then I will upload them. I do not plan for this to be a super long story... in fact I think it'll be about 5 chapters in all, but I'm kind of playing it by ear. So.... for those that are just reading as I post, thank you so much for your patience. :) Onward my ducklings.

Potter just stairs at me blandly.  It takes several minutes before he pulls his hand from his mouth.  That small band taunts me.  That hand that I’ve become familiar with recently, grasps my own.  His smile splits his face and those green eyes sparkle.

“Well.  No time to be upset about that.  Like you always say- to much to do to be depressed.”  My throat feels tight, and my heart is racing.  I must still be feeling sick from earlier.  “I’m sure you’ll feel more comfortable if I fill you in a little bit.”  I’m hesitant to speak and further injure my throat, so I simply nod.  “The war has been over.  The few death eaters still causing havoc were all caught.  The world is more or less at peace.” 

This really must be an illusion. 

 “You were reinstated as the potions master and I’m the Defense against the dark arts teacher.  You and I…. we became close after the war.”  Close he says.  I pull the blanket further up as nonchalantly as I can.  He notices.  His eyes are wide and slightly panicked. 

“Severus, I am so sorry.  Had I known that you didn’t remember then I would have never…. I swear.  I’ve just done that to you so many times.  You loved being woke up to a blowjob.  I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.  I’m so sorry.”  Out of practiced ease, I turn my face into a scowl.  He only laughs.  Both of his hands are held up in a mock surrender.  “I give you my word.  I will not touch you in any intimate sort of way until you beg for it.  So just beg when you are ready Sevvy.”  The words are playful and hold an air of familiarity. 

I’m not so sure this really is Potter.  Nothing is adding up.  Even if the war was over and I wasn’t locked in Azkaban- The comfortable ease which he is talking to me with makes no sense.  Became close after the war he says.  Preposterous.  A knock sounds on the door and Potter gives the okay for the person to open it.  Poppy walks in.

“Did you cleanse yourself?”

“I hardly need you to remind me how to do my job.”  She chastises playfully.  “And shouldn’t you be teaching your class Professor Snape?”  I look down at my semi dressed appearance.  I know I’m conscious, but I am hardly in any state to be in a potions classroom.

“I’m going there now, I was just waiting for you.”  Potter says.  “He seems to not really remember anything.  Can anything be done about that?”  The two continue to talk about me as if I were not listening to them.

“We will see what we can do.  Go on to teach your class, now that he’s conscious healing him should be easier.”  Potter pats my head as if I were a child and then leaves.  Shame color my cheeks.  How dare he do something so… familiar with me of all people and in front of someone for that matter.  But Poppy doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest.  “I do apologize for it taking so long for me to get here.  It takes some time for me to cleanse my body of any magical residue.  Are you feeling sick to your stomach at all?”  I am, but it’s minor now.  I’ve dealt with much worse when I had to go to death eater meetings.  I don’t say anything, but it seems she’s not bothered by my silence. 

When she grabs the blanket, panic sets in.  I grasp it tightly- with all my strength- but she easily takes it from me.  “Harry has been taking good care of you.”  She says lightly.  A warmth fills my stomach and I fight down the bile.  “He was adamant that only he would tend to your more basic needs.”  She’s laughing.  “I suppose he does know you better than anyone after all.”  I try to talk, but it’s painful, so I stop.  But it gets her attention.  “Is there something you’d like to know?”  I point to my injuries.  “Oh yes.  I’m sure you would want to know how you got hurt in the first place.  Well.  As it happens, it was a potions incident.  A cauldron exploded in your class.  The student was unharmed, but you put yourself in-between her and the explosion.  You suffered the worst of it.  I’m not sure how she botched the potion, but something was added that’s caused you to have an almost allergic reaction to magic.  We couldn’t keep you in the infirmary, and we’ve had to rely on muggle medicines.  I’m sure now that you are conscious, that things will be easier.  We’ve had other wizards that are decently experienced in potions have a look at the ingredients that were used- but none have been able to formulate an antidote.  Well, some might have been able to, but Harry did not feel comfortable having you prodded by strange men.”  She laughs lightly.  “If you were able to inspect yourself, I’m sure you would have been healed shortly after the incident.  I’ll make sure that Harry gets the ingredients that were used during the potions class to you.  I’m sure you can work out the problem.”

She inspects several areas of my body including my injuries and neck.  She instructs me to not talk for now- just to be safe.  Not once did she use magic on me, nor could I feel her magical pulse around her.  Earlier I could feel it lightly around Potter.  Since I have entered this room, I’ve not felt my own magical pulse.  I force that to the back of my mind for now.

“I must be getting back to the infirmary, I can’t be gone for too long.  Try to rest, Harry will be back soon enough to check on you.”

That at least fills in some of the blanks.  Realistically, I know I should rest, but I’ve never been particularly fond of that.  As long as I stay in the room and within reach of the bed, I should be fine.  I’m likely weak from inactivity.  It takes an unreasonable amount of energy to swing my legs over the bed.  Even more to stand and not collapse immediately.  Still, I feel sturdier than I did the first time. 

The faster I recover, the faster I can distance myself from that stranger.  He isn’t the same as the boy I taught.  The proof thus far is insinuating that he and I were… wed.  What more, also insinuating that I am the submissive partner.  The facts simply do not add up.  I do not want to be in his care for any length of time.  He touched me.  _He_ touched _me_.  It’s painful to remain standing, but I still force myself to stand prone beside the bed.

My skin felt so hot when he touched me.  I’ve never been touched like that, yet he knew exactly where and how to manipulate me.  It’s unsettling.  I want a shower.  I feel dirty.  Knowing that someone else was in charge of my cleanliness does not sit well with me.  I shouldn’t leave the room.  I’m not sure that my pride can tolerate being carried back again.  And what more.  He briefly mentioned locking the door should I leave again.  I do not want to test this stranger. 

I want my chambers.  My sitting room.  My bed.  My office.  Not this…. Foreign room.  High up near Gryffindor tower no less.  I don’t want to sleep.  I don’t want to give Poppy or Potter the satisfaction of knowing that I did indeed need rest.  But so much has happened that fighting to keep my eyes open is futile. 

I stumble from exhaustion but manage to fall onto the bed.  It takes some effort, but I roll onto my back.  My head sinks into the pillow and all to soon I fall asleep.  I’ve always hated sleeping because sleeping often leads to dreams.  Dreams that are seldom pleasant. 

_“Boy.  Here.  Now.”  My father often speaks in one word sentences when he is angry.  He is standing in the center of the room holding his faded leather belt.  My blood feels cold as I follow his orders.  Refusing to obey or signs of disobedience only spurs on his anger.  I’ve learned that from experience._

_“Yes Father.”  I say submissively.  Do NOT anger him further._

_“Do you know what I found.”  I don’t know.  But I’ve learned that it doesn’t matter._

_“I apologize father.”  I’m kneeling in front of him.  My head bowed to the floor.  “I apologize for whatever I’ve done.”  What did I do bad.  I had to have done something bad.  That’s why he gets mad at me.  I did something bad.  Other daddies don’t get mad at their sons like mine does with me.  So it has to be because I’m bad.  If I just stop being bad.  I don’t mean to be bad.  I don’t mean to._

_Black leather comes down on my back.  It already stings.  My eyes are blurry from the pain.  He gets angrier when I cry.  Another sting and it’s getting harder to not cry out.  To not beg him to forgive me.  To not beg him to just love me like other daddies do.  I’m sorry.  I am.  I try to be good.  My body hurts so much._

_My body hurts so much._

It feels like I’m suffocating when I wake up.  Everything is dark.   My eyes haven’t adjusted to the darkness yet, but I can smell sunshine and musk.  I can feel that familiar hand pressed comfortingly into my back and from the way he’s idlily stoking it, I can tell that he -Potter no doubt- is conscious.  I’m not sure if he’s yet realized that I’ve woken up.  My first instinct is to push him away and eloquently insult him, but when his hand presses my head deeper into his chest, I find that I’m much too tired to protest. 

Softly he’s humming and I truly feel like a child.  I am not some toddler that needs his nappy changed after a bad dream.  I do not need to be consoled or coddled.  I have never needed it. 

It’s painful to move, but I force my hands into his chest until I’ve nearly pushed him off the bed.  He doesn’t seem upset at my obvious distaste for him.

“Severus, are you feeling much better?  I’ll admit I was afraid to go to class and have you asleep when I came back.  No.  I knew you’d likely be asleep, but I mean, I was afraid that you’d be unconscious for a long time again.”  He’s babbling, but smiling wide all the while.  His hand comes up to cup my face.  His thumb strokes my cheek.  I push him away and try to force sounds into words, but he stops me.  “No.  It’s better for you to not talk quite yet.  It will be fine for you to just use sign language, but try to go slow, you know I’m not as good at reading it.”

‘You know sign language?’  My hands make the words with practiced ease.

“Well.  You were teaching me.  That way I can talk with your aunt.” 

‘How do you know about my aunt?  I’ve never told anyone.’

“You told me Severus.  I know that this is a lot to take in.  But you introduced me to her once our relationship became serious.  I know you can’t remember, but I wanted to ask for her blessing.  Since she raised you.”  He’s smiling so softly that it shakes my balance. 

‘You’re lying.  I would never tell anyone about her.’

“Why would I lie to you Severus.  You’ve told me everything about your childhood.  I know she adopted you when you were nine.  And I know why she adopted you.  I know that you have kept her a secret because you didn’t want her to become affected by the war in the magical world.  You’ve told me everything Severus.  You don’t have to be on guard around me.  Now.  Enough of that.  Would you like me to help you shower?  I’m sure you’d feel better after a meticulous shower.” 

I narrow my eyes at him.  We both know that I can’t stand for very long on my own, and if he thinks that I will allow him inside of my shower then he has lost his mind.

“It might be a little difficult, but I’ll close my eyes and just keep ahold of your arm.  I need to be there in case you need help.  I do not want you to try to attempt to shower on your own, slip, and then hurt yourself.  And as stubborn as you are, I know you’ll try.  So please.  I know it’s bruising to your pride to have someone help you, but that’s what I’m here for.”  He smiles gently again.  “And I know that you were very modest when we first started dating, so I understand if you do not feel comfortable having me see you naked.  So I swear I’ll keep my eyes closed unless you need my help.  I wouldn’t betray your trust.”

‘I’ll just take a bath.  No need for you to be present.’  I sign.

“Severus.  We both know you don’t like baths.  You said that if you were going to sit in your own filth, why bother bathing at all.  We both know you will not be satisfied with that.  Now, I swear I won’t look.  Your options are either let me help you, or another wash down with a rag.  I won’t let my husband be dirty.”

‘You aren’t my husband.  I have no memories of you, and I refuse to think of you as such.’

“Well.  I can’t say that that makes me happy, but this just means that I’ll get the chance to have you fall in love with me all over again.”  He says confidently.

‘We aren’t married.  I’m not gay!’

“Sure you are Severus.  When you were a third year, you were in love with that seventh year Hufflepuff boy.  Remember?”  He’s smiling at me.

‘I told no one of that.  Not even Lily.  How the fuck do you know about him?’

“The same way I know about your aunt Severus.  You told me.”  His eyes are sincere and it only makes me more uncomfortable.

‘Potter.  I will never think of you are a potential love interest.’

“It’s Snape now dearest.”  He holds up his hand.  “I have not been a Potter in a long time.  I’m not a potential love interest.  I’m your husband.  And you Severus, are my stubborn husband.  I’m prepared to woo you again.  I managed once without the edge that I have now.  There isn’t a single secret you have that I don’t know about.  I’ve won you before, and I will again.”

‘I will not have you help me shower.’  He sighs.

“Alright.  You’ll thank me when you get your memories back.”  He’s trying to undress me, and he’s so much stronger than I am.  I can’t stop him.  It’s humiliating.  But he doesn’t laugh.  He grabs a basin and leaves the room momentarily.  When he returns, it’s full of water.  A towel is dipped into it and he’s carefully wiping me down.

‘This is not necessary.’

“Can you really tell me that you’d rather stay filthy?”  I can’t.  I hate the very thought of it.  He’s nearly finished and I know what’s next.  I close my legs tighter, but instead he hands me the towel.  “Please go ahead and wash your private parts.”  He’s smiling softly and understandingly.  I take it surprised at his level of understanding.  “I only did it before because you were unable to.  I know you don’t have much strength, but this much should be alright.”  I finish quickly and hand the rag back to him.  “Very good Severus.”  He’s dressing me. 

‘If we are truly married, then where would be my wedding band.’  He’s laughing lightly. 

“Are you anxious because you don’t have it?”

‘No.  I simply think that I’ve caught you in your fairy tale.  There is no way I could be married to you.’

“Severus you’ve been allergic to magic.  Even your own.  So every day I have to cleanse both of us of any magical residue.  Your ring has my magical imprint on it.  It’s to keep you safe.  But because of how sick you get around magic, I took it from you.”  He unbuttons the top few of his shirt and shows me a silver band on a chain handing around his neck.  “I’m keeping it safe for you until you can wear it again.  The magical properties that it possesses could make you sick.  But it has my magical imprint on it just like the ring you gave me has your magical imprint on it.”  He holds up his hand.  “This room has charms placed on it from the outside to negate any spells cast.  I did this for your safety.  This is our room until you get better and we are able to return to our actual room.  I ask that you stay in bed as much as you can, but I know you aren’t likely to listen.  So if you feel you need to move around, then you can, but stay in this room.  Just outside that door is my classroom.  So, if you ever need anything, I will likely be close by.”

He hands me a sheet of paper.

‘Is this the list of ingredients?’

“Yes, it is.  No one has been able to figure out the issue.  We’ve had plausible remedies, but none worked on the sample.  We can’t seem to figure out how to cure you.”  Well.  Now that I have something to work on, I’m sure that I will solve this problem quickly.  It’s the only way I can think of to be free of this person. 

‘I will get right on this.’

“I’m sure you will solve this problem quickly.”  He’s easing me back into the bed.  “The magic issue you can work on tomorrow, but one of the ways to heal you is to make sure you have plenty of rest.  So please.  Don’t fight me on this.  I want you to sleep.”  He kisses my forehead and it almost feels natural.  “I’ll be grading some assignments, but I’ll be close if you need me.  Have good dreams Severus.”  I want to resist him.  I do not want to do as he’s asked.  I’ve slept so much lately, but sleep sounds wonderful right now.  I don’t think I believe that he and I are actually married.  It’s ludicrous, but I also do not think that this boy would do any harm to me, so I will not fight him right now.  Not to please him, but so that I can be well rested by tomorrow to start working on my cure.

I’ll be free of you soon Potter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a little bit for this hasn't it.... well the wait (for this chapter at least) is over. I have a lot of stuff going on in real life... and sometimes I don't have a lot of time to write, but I'll try to finish chapters of stories and post what I can, when I can. Onward my ducklings.

My body is healing much quicker now that I’m conscious.  The process is still slower than I would like, but with my magical allergy, this is as much as I can manage.  I still get dizzy if I leave the room- not that I’ve been ‘allowed’ to do so.  I’ve looked over the potion ingredients from the accident and I haven’t yet discovered what affected me this way.  Potter smiles as he grades papers.  I’m getting stir crazy.  I need to get out of this prison.  I need my rooms in the dungeon.  I’ll be able to concentrate there.  But I can’t leave, especially not without help.  And I will not ask for help. 

I’ve also realized that I’ve gotten fat.  I realized, most suddenly, that I have put on a bit of weight.  Potter always eats with me instead of in the great hall.  He will sit on the edge of the bed, hand me my plate, and immediately begin eating. 

I can talk without it sounding like I’m dying, though my throat gets dry quickly.  I still mostly speak in sign language around him, but during dinner, neither of us talk.  It’s not that I mind the quiet, but he normally never shuts up.  It’s odd.

“You do not have to eat with me.  I’m sure you would prefer company in the great hall.”  He smiles a lopsided grin and my chest twinges uncomfortably.

“We won’t be missed Severus.”  He takes a sip of his drink and then hands mine to me.  The tea tastes divine.  I don’t recognize it though.  He patiently waits for me to take a sip then he takes it from me and sets it down.  “We rarely ate dinner in the great hall before you were injured, so it is inconsequential now.  You confided in me that you always had difficulties eating with all the commotion.  It put you off your appetite.  And to me it was important to increase your appetite because I was concerned about your weight.  It wasn’t very healthy for you to skip meals as malnourished as you were.”  That explains why I’ve gained a few pounds. 

“You decided to forgo the great hall for my sake.”  I state in order to clarify what I’ve heard.

“Of course.  That’s what people do when they love each other.  You conceded on many things for me.”

“I highly doubt that.”  He hands me my drink again.

“If you could handle magic, then I would show you our actual room.  It’s not far from here, and fairly close to Gryffindor tower.  You already know, or knew I should say, I couldn’t live in the dungeons.  I’m incredibly claustrophobic.  My aunt and uncle made me sleep in a cupboard under the stairs when I was a kid.  That was my room.  It was terrifying.  I use to hate your potion’s class.  I was fascinated with the art, but I was constantly fighting my own terror.  I knew I was enclosed and it was difficult for me.”  He smiles into his cup.  “I hid it pretty well, but even Gryffindore tower was difficult for me.  I think that’s why I always liked flying.  I was surrounded by nothing but skys.  No walls could enclose me.  When we became friends, you always came to my room so that I wouldn’t have to stay in the dungeons.  Then when we became intimate, you moved your things into my room.  Though you still do your brewing in your lab.”  He takes the drink from me and smiles again.  “I confessed to you that sometimes even my room would feel stifling.  So you charmed my ceiling to look like the sky.  You are simply mad for me Severus.  When it comes to me, your head goes bonkers.”  My chest twinges again.  I refuse to fall for it.

“I don’t see how I could care for you.  I refuse to believe it.  You and I cannot be together, much less wed to one another.”  He doesn’t pay me any attention.  “You hate me!  You’ve always hated me, I bloody well made sure of that.”

“I don’t hate you Severus.  I’m more than a touch smitten with you.”  His cool hand cups my cheek.  “And you are head over heels for me.  It’s okay that you’ve forgotten.  I’m not pressuring you to treat me as you normally do.  I was able to make you love me before, so even if you never get your memories back, I know that I will be able to court you again.  Because I love you.  For all your barbed comments and snarky ways, I loved you then, and I love you now.”  He says it absolute.  As if it could be nothing other than the truth.  “I would like for you to get your memories back though.  I’m not opposed to making new memories, but I miss my husband.”  He hands me my cup and moves both of our plates to the desk. 

“Tell me about our supposed relationship?”  It’ll be the quickest way to catch him in a lie.  To disillusion him. 

“What would you like to know?”  I’m not sure I want to know anything, but I did ask after all.

“How were you able to convince me to give you a chance in the first place?”  His face warps into a small bittersweet smile.  He leaves the bed and kneels between my legs.  Shaggy unkept hair falls wildly in his face.  He almost looks like a young boy again, but no.  He’s a man.  His arms wrap to hug my waist. 

“Severus, please just give me one day more to prove to you that you can have happiness.  Please give me a chance to show you that I can shoulder your burdens and pains.  Please don’t leave, because I value you.  If you cannot see the value of your life, then please do not throw it away.  Give it to me.”  He lingers for a moment longer then looks up at me.  He’s crying.  A pit inside of me feels empty and full at the same time and it’s such a conflict that I immediately feel weak.  “Severus.  You were going to kill yourself, and I just happened to go to your room before you could.  I begged you.  And I stubbornly held onto you.  After the war, I grew really fond of you.  We would talk and I felt comfortable confiding in you.  The thought of losing you even remembering almost losing you is very painful.”

“You understand that this is difficult for me to believe.”  Not the suicide stuff.  I refuse to admit to him that I can believe I would attempt to end my life.  I had debated doing it for years.  No.  Decades.  That, I can believe, and I doubt he would know about my depression otherwise.  I firmly keep such nonsense to myself.  What I can’t believe is that he would be fond of me.  His calm hands take my shaky ones and he kisses my palm.  Then gently but deliberately he presses my palm into his chest. 

I can feel his heart pounding.

“It doesn’t matter how long I’ve been married to you.  My heart can never get use to touching you.  Severus, I love you very much.  I understand if it’s difficult for you to believe me.  After all.  It took many years for you to believe me even as I was courting you.”  He laughs.  “In fact.  Even up until the accident, I’m not sure you fully believed me then.  But I assure you.  We are very much in love.”  I feel ‘achey’ all over.  “What else would you like to know Severus?”  His hands are still holding mine and I want to rip them from his comfortable embrace.

“I don’t know.  This is all just so overwhelming.” 

“I understand Severus, but I’m here to help you.  Please believe that.”  As much as I hate admitting it even to myself.  I do believe that he intends to help me.  “I will take care of these dishes and then I have a bit of grading to do.  This evening, I’ll help you bathe again.”  He doesn’t leave any room for argument.  And I know he will see to it that I get bathed.  I can’t fight him.  I can’t stop him.  He’s more than a touch stronger than me. 

I have to find a way to heal myself.  I’m a grown man.  Having someone bathe me is improper and humiliating.  Poppy lets Potter do whatever he pleases with me simply because I’m ‘out of her jurisdiction’.  When Minerva came and visited I even insisted that Potter be forbidden from coming near me due to his indecent behavior.  She had the audacity to laugh.  She told me that no one would view a husband tending to his ‘wife’ as improper. 

I am no wife. 

When Potter comes back into the room, I’m looking over the potion ingredients that were used during the accident.  He doesn’t distract me.  Not at first.  But the scratching of his pen on paper pulls my gaze to his hands.  He prefers pen to quill.  His hands are not as large as my own, but his fingers curl around the utensil skillfully.  I want to ignore those hands, but I remember where those fingers have touched and I can’t help but feel warm everywhere.  Those hands touched me in places that I would never touch myself.  And worse.  I remember how they felt.  It causes my face to flush humiliatingly. 

I blame my own inexperience.  Certainly, I wouldn’t be indulging in these thoughts if I was well versed in pleasure.  And I definitely wouldn’t be so focused on those fingers that my body starts to shiver.  The entire ordeal is unnerving. 

“Severus?  Are you alright?”  I pull my gaze and he’s watching me with a tilted expression. 

“The scratching from you writing is irritating.”  I voice immediately. 

“I apologize.  I’ll do it after you’ve gone to sleep then.  Here.  Let’s go ahead and clean you up.”  No.  No.  No.  Not now. 

“No.  Your grading is important.  I can wait until later.”  I assure, but he shakes his head. 

“Really it can wait, but you shouldn’t have to wait on me.  You look positively uncomfortable.  I’m sure it’s driving you bonkers to be dirty.”  He’s undressing me even while I’m thrashing.  Not now.  The more clothing, he takes off the more I push him away.  “Severus.  Why are you fighting me?  We’ve been through this.  I am not going to do anything inappropriate.  I am only bathing you.  You were fine with me doing this yesterday.”  I can’t deny that I didn’t fight him to this level.  He stops.  “Severus.  Talk to me.  What’s wrong?”  His eyes are sincere and observing.

“Just finish grading.  I can wait to be bathed after.”

“Severus.”

“Please just later.”  It’s humiliating.  His fingers weave into mine.  His lips press into my hollow cheek. 

“I don’t want to upset you Severus.”  His green eyes stare clearly into me and I can’t bring myself to hate him.  That scares me.  His hands are warm. 

“Potter.  Harry.  I am a man that has had very little exposure to being tended to.  I do not want you to misinterpret a natural involuntary response as something different than what it really is.”  He blinks then his mouth stretches into a smile. 

“Are you aroused?”  He asks easily.  Anger bubbles up.

“Forgive my natural sense of modesty.  Not all of us can be immoral perverts capable of flaunting intimate bits of their anatomy.”  He laughing lightly. 

“Severus.  I’ve seen everything you have.  I’ve licked your arse.  Sucked on it more like.  And you would speak more than improperly.”  I flinch from his grasp, but he doesn’t pay it any mind.  “I don’t want you to be embarrassed over natural responses.  All you have to tell me is that you are aroused and need to be left alone.  We are both men.  I already swore that I would not pressure you.  And I will not.  But if you need to masturbate, I can leave.  My classroom is just behind the door.  I can do my grading there.  I know you are a modest person.  If it’s for something like this, I can give you privacy, but I can’t just leave you alone at all times because get lonely so easily.”

“I am not a child needing to be coddled.  Eat in the great hall.  Do not feel obligated to stay and tend to me.  I do not need your aid.”  His head tilts.  “I am capable of tending to myself.  I do not need nor want your companionship and I would be gracious if you would stop infecting my time with your presense.”

“Severus.  I know you are only being harsh because you are embarrassed.”  He doesn’t even look offended.

“No.  I am being harsh because I hate you.  You do not know me as well as you think you do.”  He takes my hand again and kisses my fingertips.  I force myself to not squirm.

“You were always insatiable when it came to pleasure.  You wanted me to touch you every day.  I’m not at all surprised that your body is needy.  It’s been a while since you’ve gotten off after all.  It could make anyone irritable.  I will do my grading in the classroom next door.  Take your time Severus.”  He kisses my cheek again and before I can speak he’s grabbed the papers and closed the door behind him.

Does he actually expect me to do as he says and masturbate?

My loins ache unfamiliarity.  I’ve never enjoyed the act of masturbation.  Even as a teenager, exploring my body wasn’t a task that I felt comfortable doing.  I remember going months without experiencing arousal and now I feel ‘hot and bothered’ often. 

Right now, Potter is outside that door, and he truly believes that I’m committing indecent acts.  A large part of me is ashamed to even think about touching myself especially under these conditions.  Another part though, flickers hotly.  My erection twitches encouragingly.  Harry Potter is picturing me doing indecent things.  Why is that such a pleasant thought.  My hand doesn’t wait for my permission and it squeezes me through the material of my pajama bottoms.  I’m actually surprised that it feels good. 

I tell myself that I do not want to masturbate like a hormone crazed schoolboy, but maybe I should.  If I relieve this pressure then maybe I can go a few days before my body becomes strange again.  Before I can finish debating, my hands are excitedly pulling down my pants and exposing myself.  I’m already leaking precum. 

I want to end this quickly, so I try to pump myself faster.  Ample precum builds up, but I don’t feel like I’m even satisfying myself.  Yes, of course it feels good.  But my body isn’t satisfied with this.  It doesn’t feel as good as it can.  And I can feel my body needing more.  I’m terrified for him to come back in and catch me like this so I need to finish quickly.  I can’t drag this out.  And I refuse to make any sound.  I couldn’t bear the thought of him hearing me make lewd sounds.  Luckily, I have more control that to actually let that happen.

The faster I stroke myself the less satisfied my body becomes.  I’m about to give up when my hole twitches.  It would be completely improper to touch there.  No sane man would actually put anything inside of that place.

But it burns and itches.  It aches deep inside.  An ache that no amount of squirming can soothe. 

If I only used one finger, then I’m sure I can deal with the ache.  It’s just one finger.  With ample precum for lube, I ease my index finger inside. 

There is no resistance.

The ache doesn’t subside.  Instead it escalates.  I quickly realize that one finger isn’t going to soothe that spot deep inside me.  With two fingers pumping in and out, my body stops torturing me with desperation and instead rewards me with pleasure.  I’ve long sense ignored my erection in favor of focusing more attention on my still twitching hole.  It feels so good that I’ve started panting.  If this is how two fingers feel then… Oh Merlin.  How is this not hurting.  Tears prick my eyes, but it’s not from pain. 

I remember how his fingers felt touching me expertly.  My own fingers are two clumsy to bump the pleasure spots that he found with ease.  Each time I try to pull out my fingers, my hole sucks them back in and I find it harder to stay quiet. 

A heaviness in my stomach sets in and I fight against it.  I want this to last.  Just a moment longer.  It feels so good.  _So familiar._ I need more fingers so my other hand joins inside that spot.  I need something longer.  Something to reach deep into me.  It takes my foggy mind a minute to realize what I want.

My legs widen further for the person that isn’t here.  My hips lift up to take the imaginary thrusts.  I need a dick inside of me.  I need someone’s heat impaling me.  A long and thick one so deep inside.  Oh Merlin.  One that curves upward and can hit the spots that my fingers can’t reach. 

“Almost.  Just a bit more.  Good.  Feels good.  Please.  Please.  Just a bit more.  Please.  H.. HARRY!”  I cover my mouth to muffle the name I can’t help but scream.  I’m thankful that I didn’t alert him, but the moment of relief vanishes quickly.

I came when I screamed his name.


End file.
